


Blizzard of '82

by HeyMcRaely



Category: Joker (2019)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:00:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22853635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeyMcRaely/pseuds/HeyMcRaely
Summary: The snow is coming down and the city is coming to a standstill. Good thing you've got someone to watch the world stop with.
Relationships: Arthur Fleck/You
Kudos: 10





	Blizzard of '82

**Author's Note:**

> Basically I just wanted to write about how damn cozy Arthur's living room is and I accidentally made myself soft.

The TV set’s hazed up, more static than usual, but you can make out the lights in Gotham Square, the news reporters behind scarves, talking about wind by miles per hour and snow by inches and school closings by districts. Arthur stomps in, ice on the mat, his face frozen after waiting a half an hour for his bus. You come press a warm kiss to a stiff cheek. He turns his head to give his reply and you shriek. He smiles sideways, reaches out with a hand so freezing you goosebump through your sweater. Then he’s chasing you into the apartment, trying to tickle you with fingers like icicles as you laugh and dodge and shout. 

It’s a hot-shower-and-leftovers-on-the-couch kind of night; both of you sprawl out, watching the news coverage, talking about your days. Light flickers. You stand on the kitchen counter to change the bulb. Halfway through you look down into the dark. The ember-like glow from the living room burnishes Arthur’s profile, outlines the shadows of him. Then you give one more twist to the bulb and he’s there below you, head back, looking up, mouth slightly open and eyes wide as he watches your hands, his own hands cushioning your thighs. Until he sees you’ve stopped. Eyes flick to yours. You’re gazing at him, his pale, upturned face soaked blueish-greenish in the new light. And you want it to always be like this. To turn on the light and to find it’s him, standing there, ready to catch you. Cold hands and all.


End file.
